


Orbit

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been falling towards each other since the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orbit

Sam doesn't remember how they got here. He doesn't remember what they said or why they agreed - how they ever agreed to do this. If they did at all. Maybe it was something like falling instead.

There was blood and bruises, and laughter that sounded on the edge of hysteria. The mess of it, before they were slamming into each other like they'd been in a decaying orbit all along.

The motel room doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all. It's just one more in a long and forgettable line of them. Neither does the cheap bed with the cheap sheets, all shoved down to make room for the three of them. Pressed together however they fit, clothes dragged away in uncoordinated pieces.

Sam's stopped worrying if this is right, or sensible, or even sane. He'd stopped thinking at all the moment his brother and Castiel started touching him. The moment they pushed him down on his hands and knees. All that matters now is the slick hard push that's opening him up, the strong, flat press of a hand between his shoulder blades and the other curved round his waist, holding him up just high enough to drive into. One steady shove after another, that send sparks through his blood and leaves him gasping and begging, voice a messy combination of breath and sound and need. Too hard to be comfortable, not slick enough to be easy. The catch and drag of Castiel's cock burns inside him. But he wants it and he needs it and he's pushing back when he can. Pushed low on his knees so it aches all the way through him every time he's spread open.

"Cas," he manages and he's rewarded by a slow, heavy shove that forces all the air out of him. A hand catches the back of his neck, drags his head up, until he's watching Dean fist his own cock, so close. God, close enough to touch and all his breath shakes out in a noise that sounds helpless and desperate. A noise he should be ashamed of.

Castiel tilts his head back farther, makes him look up, makes him look at Dean's face. He makes Sam watch the blown-out pupils, the knife-sharp intensity there. Like this is something Dean wants. Something he's always wanted.

"Take him," Castiel says roughly and Sam knows the words aren't meant for him. Knows they're meant for Dean and the way his hand stutters on his cock, the way it drops and squeezes, gasp wrenched out of his throat. Dean knows it too, and he knows what it means.

Castiel slows, long steady slides opening him up and leaving him shaking. Sam's hard and heavy under him, the weight of it a strange intensity. But he knows if he touches himself he'll lose it completely. He'll have to shove into his own fist until he comes.

When Castiel's hand slides out of his hair, Dean's slides in. Tangles in the weight of it, tighter than Castiel dared. The warm, hard push of metal against Sam's scalp from a ring. Jewellery he knows too damn well - but it doesn't make him pull away. It doesn’t make him want any less.

"Fuck, Sam." Dean's voice is a mess, low and dark and _wrong_. Edges of guilt and urgency and bright red lust. But Sam lets him draw his head up. He lets Dean's hand guide him, fingers dropping quickly to pull open his mouth, to spread it wide before pushing the solid length of his cock inside. Sliding it past Sam's tongue and teeth. Dean makes a noise, a breathy hush of sound followed by a tight clench of fingers, testing how much Sam can take. Sam groans around the stretch of it and tries - tries so damn hard - to take it all. Tongue pressing and dragging and pulling when he can't, when he chokes on it.

Castiel's hand curls round Sam's shoulder, a hard bite of fingers that's almost vicious. The other pushes against his leg, shoving his knees lower, making it easier and Sam's left spread wide, dragging desperate breaths through his nose and bracing himself against Dean's thighs for every solid insistent shove inside him. Every breath slicing out of him as he pushes down and back up, the wet taste of pre-come of his tongue.

"Fuck, fuck." Dean's hand is out of his hair, shoving it off of his face while his thumb drags across the stretched curve of his mouth, over and over like he can't stop. Hips pushing up and in, breathing shot to pieces. Sam's shaking and tightening, skin damp and shivery. He's close enough that he can feel the edge of it and then Dean's pushing in. Just a little too deep, swearing and gasping and then coming in Sam's mouth.

He's not ready for it, for the rush of it, it's half swallowed and half running over the messy, wet line of his lip and chin. Dean's lets his cock slip free and rubs it there with his thumb, making dirty little breathless noises while Sam opens his mouth and takes it in and sucks it clean. Without having to be told - Jesus - without Dean having to ask.

"I want to see it, I want to watch it," Dean says roughly. Sam doesn't know which of them he's talking to. He's too far gone to answer, to do anything but shudder and beg under his breath while Dean pushes at his hair, leaves his face bare.

Castiel presses in, instinct and reflex driving him in quick and hard and Sam's gasping his way through his own orgasm while Castiel falls through his. He groans and shakes and takes it, while his cock jerks and aches and leaves the sheets wet.

His throat tightens around hoarse, gasping noises because it feels like too much. Too jagged-edged and brittle and so fucking good.

Then he's sliding down in the sheets, into the curl of someone's arms, sore and stiff and wrecked and barely certain who's holding him up.


End file.
